


Crafting the Solution

by sunstarunicorn



Series: Magical Flashpoint Side Stories [28]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Flashpoint (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, Wordy's mithril healing bracelet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:07:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22070779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunstarunicorn/pseuds/sunstarunicorn
Summary: They have an idea and a plan, now it’s time to put that plan into action.  But can two kids who are still in school do what neither technological nor magical medicine has been able to do?  With the clock running down on how long Wordy can stay in the SRU with Parkinson’s, one thing’s for sure…the only way to know if they can do it, is to try.
Series: Magical Flashpoint Side Stories [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/576850
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Toil and Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the Magical Flashpoint Side Story series. It follows "Researching the Solution" and lurks in the background of every story up until "Contingency Plan".
> 
> Although all original characters belong to me, I do not own _Flashpoint_ , _Harry Potter_ , _Narnia_ , or _Merlin_.

Alanna looked up from her final runic sequence at a knock on the door of her bedroom. “It’s open!” she called.

She wasn’t surprised to see her brother poke his head in, though the slump of his shoulders and the downcast look on his face _was_ more than a bit disappointing. “How’s it going?” Lance asked, gesturing to the piles of books on her bed and dresser as well as the long length of parchment she was sketching on.

The redhead sighed and waved her brother inside before finishing up the last strokes of the rune she was working on. “Well…I’ve got the runic sequences worked out…”

“But…?”

In answer, Alanna gestured with her quill to one end of the parchment. “The sequence runs from _here_ …” She hopped up and unrolled the parchment until it stretched from her bed to about a quarter into the room, a good two meters of parchment – at least. “…to _here_.”

Lance surveyed the length of parchment. “Bugger.”

“I’d yell at you for swearing, but…” Alanna trailed off, biting her lip, “That about sums it up, brother mine.” She looked up at him. “Tell me you have something,” she demanded.

The brunet awkwardly held up two books, one thick and the other medium-sized. He walked over to her bed and carefully laid both down, slipping a third book from under his elbow. She moved closer as he opened up the last book. “This one’s about crystals and how they work with runes. I thought maybe you could use it.”

Alanna nodded thoughtfully. “Worth a shot,” she agreed quietly, taking the book. “What about the other two?”

Lance laid a hand on the thicker tome. “Mindy brought every Old Magic book she could find from the library and I’ve been through all the ones that are _just_ healing. If healing is mixed into the others, I missed it, but I don’t think it matters.”

Alanna’s eyes narrowed. “Explain.”

Her brother gave her a humorless smirk and opened up the thicker book, tilting it so that she could see the handwritten pages in the back. “During the reign of King Uther Pendragon, a congress was assembled in his court, a congress of the most prominent and learned Healers of the age. Court physicians, well-known Healers, and even a few roving Healers who’d gained attention and acclaim,” Lance began, lightly tapping the page he was on. “ _This_ book records that much and reports that the primary purpose of the congress was to address the shaking palsy.”

“That’s what Parkinson’s used to be called,” Alanna whispered, earning a sharp nod.

Lance sighed, running a hand through his hair as he set the tome back down on the bed. “They arrived at the court towards the end of Queen Ygraine’s pregnancy and were even invited to the feast that was to be held after the newborn heir’s birth.”

Alanna shook her head, seeing exactly where her brother was going. “Lance…”

Sapphire was hard, unrelenting as Lance’s hand moved to the other tome. He hefted it up and flipped it open to a specific page. “ _‘After the birth of Prince Arthur and the death of Queen Ygraine, most of my fellow physicians and healers fell victim to King Uther’s newfound rage against magic and those who wielded it. Gaius, the Court Physician of Camelot, saw to it that I and some of my colleagues were safely ushered away from the king’s dungeons and pyres. Far too few of us survived, even with Gaius’ help. Many resent Gaius for not doing more to help, but I cannot. I know the vow that was extracted from him, on pain of death; his king and friend will not spare him if he speaks for those of magic._

_‘In the years since, I have often bitterly regretted that lost chance. If only we could have found a cure, then perhaps the people would have refused to follow King Uther’s hatred of magic. I am no fool; the king still would have blamed magic for his queen’s death; but with a cure for the shaking palsy, perhaps the slaughter would have been stemmed by the king’s subjects. Or perhaps everything would have fallen out exactly as it did; there is no way to know now._

_‘On my own, I can do little to research the cure we sought; my own survival and that of my family must come first. Should I have a few spare moments, I shall turn my mind to the problem, but I fear the cure is now lost to the Purge’s flames.’_ ”

“So,” Alanna whispered. “There _is_ no cure with Old Magic, is there?”

“No,” Lance confirmed unhappily. He looked at her parchment and grimaced. “Can you…I don’t know…put half on the outer part of the bracelet and half on the inside?”

Alanna considered that and returned to her parchment. She checked the area she’d only just finished, then cast a quick spell to dry the ink. When the ink was dry, she cautiously folded the parchment in half, then held it up for Lance to see. “Still too long,” she murmured regretfully. “I’d need to make a bracelet that either wound its way up Uncle Wordy’s arm or was really, really thick to make two rows of writing. Healing runes need to be larger than most other types of runes to channel the magic.”

“How many sequences do you have in there?”

“Seven.”

“ _Seven?_ ” Lance blurted, eyes wide in shock. “Why so many?”

Alanna set the parchment down on her bed, then located her notebook and flipped it open. “From what I’ve been able to dig up online, one of the reasons that techie doctors haven’t been able to find a cure yet is that they’re not quite sure _what_ causes Parkinson’s. They have ideas and educated guesses, but they haven’t been able to nail it down yet.”

Lance moved to look over his sister’s shoulder at the runic sequences she’d put together. “So, we’re stuck treating the symptoms?”

“For the most part,” Alanna agreed glumly. She pointed to two runic sequences. “These are my attempts to target the cause, even if we don’t know what it is yet.” She bit her lip. “I suppose, if they ever figure out the cause, I could change things up and make the runes more efficient, but…”

“But that’s _years_ away at least,” Lance murmured. “We need something _now_.” He frowned, tracing the sequences with his own finger. “So many…what kind of power requirements are we looking at here?”

“Pretty big,” Alanna allowed softly. “That’s going to be our next problem. All the runic bracelets _I’ve_ made are either with leather or wood. They work, but they don’t really store much magic.”

“Because you’re a beginner?”

A shake of the head. “No, it’s a limitation of the material.”

“Wands are wooden,” Lance countered.

“They _channel_ magic, Lance, they don’t actually _store_ it themselves.”

“Oh.” The brunet’s frown turned thoughtful. “What about metal?”

“Most metals aren’t very compatible with Latin magic,” Alanna replied crisply. “Like iron, it’s more of an inhibitor; it _blocks_ magical flows.”

“Darn,” Lance whispered, running a hand through his hair.

Alanna set her notebook down and moved to the crystal book, flipping through the pages. “Maybe…”

“Maybe?”

Violet shifted over to her hopeful brother. “Maybe I can rewrite the runic sequences using Old Magic runes.” Pointing to her parchment, Alanna added, “I used the most efficient ancient rune language I know, but that’s just what I was taught in my classes. The Old Magic might be more efficient or not. I won’t know till I try.”

“What about translating the sequences?” Lance offered up.

“I can try that, too,” Alanna agreed. “But, um…”

Lance met her eyes calmly. “What do you need me to do?”

“I need you to find a material capable of storing large amounts of magical energy. This isn’t going to go _anywhere_ if the healing bracelet can’t keep up the healing. _Especially_ since we can only treat the symptoms.”

“Copy that, sis,” Lance acknowledged. “I’ll ask Mindy to sort through the books in my room and bring the runic stuff to you.”

Alanna grinned tiredly. “Doesn’t she have stuff to do at home?”

Her brother returned the grin. “She found four other elves that were recently given clothes and put them to work at the manor. She’s got time to help us with this.”

* * * * *

Lance groaned, thumping his head on Alanna’s textbook. After a moment, he thumped his head again for good measure. He’d had to interrupt Alanna to ask for her books on Ancient Runes…he’d had no _idea_ how to research appropriate materials without at least a glance through her books. Trouble was, whoever had written the blasted textbook was dead boring. And very technical. The writer also wrote in terms of absolutes, as if they’d wanted to stick runes and magic inside of a box and refuse to allow any new ideas or concepts. Frankly, he was beginning to wonder if Alanna had been right about magical materials…

Mindy popped into his room. “Mindy is being finished bringing books to Mistress,” the house-elf reported.

The young pureblood pushed himself up. “Thanks, Mindy.”

The elf squeaked, but the Calvin house-elves had always been treated with more respect than other elves so she was a bit more used to praise than the average elf. “Can Mindy be helping yous more?”

Lance debated a moment, then shrugged. “Mindy, do you know anything about how to make magical devices that store energy?”

Mindy looked surprised by the question. “What is Master meaning?”

After thinking for a moment, Lance briefly explained what he and his sister were trying to do. Partway through his explanation, Mindy perked up, but waited until he was done. “Mindy is understanding yous now, Master.”

“Do you know?”

“Old elves is sometimes making enchanted objects,” Mindy confirmed.

“Enchanted, huh?” Lance propped his chin on his hands. “If wood and leather can’t store much magic and metal’s not magic conductive, then how come the magical world has brooms and model universes and magical appliances, and all of that kind of stuff?”

“Mistress is being a beginner, Master,” Mindy replied cautiously. “There is being lots of ways to make enchanted objects that Mistress is not knowing yet.”

That made sense…a lot more sense than Alanna’s explanation had, though Lance made a note to tease his sister for being wrong. Later. Much later. “Is she right about metal stopping magic?” he asked, shifting back to the project.

“She is being right about some metal, Master,” Mindy confirmed. “Iron is being very good for restraining magic.” The house-elf twisted one ear in thought. “Silver and gold is being good for encouraging magic.”

“Pure silver? Pure gold?”

Mindy nodded.

Lance made a face. Neither type of metal was cheap and, more importantly, he wasn’t sure the soft metal could hold up to constant use and abuse. “We need something strong enough to use _every day_ ,” he pointed out.

The house-elf considered that. After a few minutes, her ears slumped. “Mindy is not knowing, Master.”

“No, that’s okay,” Lance blurted before the elf punished herself. “You got me a little farther.”

Mindy looked up, then her face brightened. “Mindy is thinking that a book Mistress has is being about enchanted objects.”

“Great! Can you ask Alanna to read that one first and bring it to me when she’s done?”

“Mindy do.”

* * * * *

Lance’s head came up at the double rap on his door. “Open!” he called, sticking a finger in his book.

Uncle Greg peeked in, his eyes widening at the stacks of books in the room, though he didn’t comment. “Dinnertime, _mio nipote_.”

The teen wanted to say he wasn’t hungry, but he could tell by the glint in his uncle’s eye that the excuse wouldn’t fly. “Um…” Lance cast about helplessly for a few seconds, then looked up. “Bookmark?” he pleaded.

Uncle Greg chuckled, then vanished for a minute before coming back with a bookmark that Lance took and slid into the tome he’d been studying. “Thanks,” the teen remarked, sliding out from under the book and off his bed.

“Not a problem,” his uncle reassured him. “What are you working on?”

“Oh, just a project,” Lance replied, keeping his tone nonchalant. “Still on the research stage.”

A thoughtful nod. “Well, keep it up; I’m sure you’ll get it done.” With a fresh glint, Uncle Greg added, “Just make sure it doesn’t cut into your school work.”

Lance cast his uncle a confused look.

“I’ll explain at dinner,” Uncle Greg promised, guiding his nephew towards Alanna’s room.

_Oh, great. How are we gonna get this done if we have to do school work too?_


	2. Expert Advice

Lance buried a sigh at the knock on his bedroom door. “It’s open,” he called, though he was determined not to budge if it was Uncle Greg again, trying to get him and ‘Lanna out of the apartment for a ‘day out’ or a trip to Shiloh.

To his relief, Alanna poked her head in. “Got a minute, big brother mine?”

Lance nodded even as he hunted around for the bookmark his uncle had lent him a week or two before. School had severely cut into their research, but neither could complain without giving away their project.

Alanna found the bookmark on the floor and offered it to her sheepish brother. While he shoved the bookmark into the book and swung his legs off his bed, she ran her hands through her hair. “I put together the Old Magic runic sequences,” she blurted.

“Great!”

She shook her head, watching her brother wilt. “No, they’re shorter than the first ones I did, but they’re still too long. Even if I cut them in half, it’s still too long.”

Lance considered that. “Could you make the runes smaller?” he asked hopefully.

Alanna shook her head again, perching on the brunet’s bed. “Healing magic is one of the hardest areas of magic, Lance. _Maybe_ , if I had a ton more experience, I could make them smaller, kinda like you pointed out that it doesn’t make sense that enchanted objects can _only_ be wood or leather.”

She blushed as she spoke; she’d argued until Lance reminded her that Team One’s weapons technically had enchantments on them – and _they_ were metal. That had shut the redhead up long enough for Lance to point out that every material, every element ever made had a place in both the magical and technological worlds. Alanna had pouted over that for a good long time – she wasn’t used to being wrong, but she’d gotten over it.

“But not right now, huh?”

“No,” the teenager admitted. “What have you found?”

Lance dug around on his bed and found his notebook. “Well…” He flipped through the pages. “Mindy told me that gold and silver are really good for enchanted objects. From what I read, they’re both a pain to enchant, but then they hold a lot of magic.”

“So we could use one of those?”

“In theory,” Lance conceded. “But, think about it, sis. Both of those metals are soft, particularly in their ‘pure’ forms. They can’t stand up to a lot of wear and tear. This bracelet would _have_ to.”

“Yeah.” Alanna stared down at the floor. “What about other metals?”

A page flip. “Iron’s out and so is steel. The Old Magic books we’ve got mostly talk about the enchantments _on_ objects, not what the objects themselves are made of. Long story short, I’ve got no idea what makes one metal magic-conductive and another metal magic-inhibiting.”

“So we’re done?”

Lance sank down, a sorrowful expression on his face. “I don’t wanna say ‘yes’, but I don’t see what we can do, sis. We just don’t _know_ enough.”

“Can I see the book on enchanted objects?”

The brunet shrugged and dug through the stack next to his bed until he found the Old Magic tome. He passed it over, adding, “I’ve been looking at your Ancient Runes book, but it’s bloody useless.”

“I know,” Alanna agreed, making a face. “I never could figure out why _that’s_ our assigned textbook.”

She skimmed through the Old Magic book, making interested noises at the various entries. Lance left her alone as he started picking up his room and finding spots for the books currently adorning his bed. The teen was debating between adding onto a quivering pile of books and starting a new stack when his sister made a triumphant noise. When he looked up, she was stabbing a finger into the Old Magic book. As he watched, she read over the entry again, then looked up with a gleam in her eyes. Defiance and fresh challenge lurked in her gaze.

“What’ve you got?” Lance asked, straightening himself. The pile of books tumbled and he winced, but didn’t look away.

Her mouth curved in laughter at his misfortune, but she replied, simply and bluntly, “Merlin.”

“Merlin?”

Alanna tilted the tome, gesturing her brother over. Lance joined her, glancing over the entry about a set of linked amulets. He read through the text and whistled low. “Merlin made those?”

“Yup.”

“But that’s not healing,” Lance protested.

Alanna shot Lance a withering glare. “We don’t know enough about making enchanted objects, _period_. Merlin _does_.”

The brunet shook his head, but didn’t argue further. “So…how do we contact him? Uncle Greg never let us buy an owl.”

Now the look he got was pure ‘do-I-have-to-do- _everything_ -myself?’. “Uncle Greg wants us to go back to Shiloh now that things have died down a bit. We can ask Mrs. Taylor to send the owl for us.”

* * * * *

It had been _quite_ some time since Merlin had last received owl mail and the warlock was rather bemused as the owl ruffled its feathers and swept out as soon as he removed its burden. He took the mystery letter to his favorite chair and settled in, inspecting the seal with an expert eye. Ahhh. That explained a few things.

Smiling, Merlin broke the seal and opened the letter, shaking it out with a snap of his wrist.

_To Lord Merlin Emrys,_

_We hope this missive finds you hale and healthy. A matter has recently arisen in our household, one in which we are reliably informed that you hold a great deal of expertise and experience. Therefore, the Ancient and Noble House of Calvin formally requests your aid in this matter, which we would prefer to disclose in a meeting that we propose in two days time in our guardian’s abode._

_Should you wish to decline this meeting, please reply by technological mail. We will respect your wishes and bother you no more._

_I am,_

_Lancelot Artorius Calvin, Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Calvin_

The ancient warlock considered the missive, frowning deeply. What matter did they need help with? And why not just come out and say what it was? At last, he decided he would go to the meeting, if only to find out what the young Calvins were up to _this_ time.

* * * * *

Merlin sat back in his chair, regarding the list of proposed runic sequences thoughtfully. Certainly, it had been many centuries since last he’d been called upon to use his magic for anything more complex than daily spells, but he still kept his hand in a few projects here and there. The undertaking the two proposed would not be easy by any means. No, to accomplish what they wanted, he – and they – would need to work around the inherent limitations of enchanted objects. A way to, in effect, create a cure for a disease thought to be incurable. An intriguing and interesting challenge, even without the more _personal_ aspects to _this_ particular project.

“What is it that you believe I can add to your efforts?” Merlin asked, regarding the two quite seriously. He was interested in the project, yes, but he was also interested in why they’d come to him, beyond the obvious. Without a word, young Alanna pushed a tome across the table, already open to a particular page. Merlin glanced down and a fond smile crossed his face. “Ah, yes, the linked amulets I made.”

He’d crafted them in secret, hoping to give them to Arthur and the other knights when his magic was finally revealed, but that day had never come. He traced the image in the book, his gaze wistful. Then he looked up. “Allow me to rephrase. What is it you _need_ to know?”

Lance shifted. “Well, a better idea of what types of metals can store and channel enough magic for the bracelet would be great, but I think our biggest problem right now is the runic sequences.”

“How so?”

Alanna ducked her head. “All seven put together are too long for a bracelet.”

Merlin considered that, then mentally worked through the runes needed for just the first three spells. He winced. “Perhaps _two_ bracelets?” he offered.

“Wouldn’t that cut the healing factor in half?” Alanna counter questioned.

Hmmm. Merlin regarded the spells with fresh eyes. “Yes, it might,” he murmured. “Not something we would want with the problem at hand.” He traced the spells. “You created sequences where each spell builds on the last?”

“Yes.”

“Clever, very clever,” Merlin praised, nodding his approval. He set the notebook down. “So, if I understand you correctly, you require aid with runes and the bracelet material?”

“Yes, sir,” the two chorused.

Merlin nodded thoughtfully. “I will help,” he declared, rising to his feet. “But, first, I believe I will return home and retrieve some books from my library.”

Lance cleared his throat. “Do you want to see what we have, first?”

The warlock paused at the young man’s words, then nodded rather sheepishly. “That would be wise, yes. Thank you, Lance.”

* * * * *

Merlin brought back a number of tomes and passed off a stack of them to Lance. “These should aid in your research into the materials,” he announced briskly. “I believe the runic sequences are currently our biggest concern and so I will work with your sister on them.” He nodded to the books. “If you have any questions, please, do not hesitate to inquire.”

Lance hefted the books up a bit higher. “Yes, sir.”

“Merlin.”

The young man blushed. “Yes, Merlin.”

Merlin smiled broadly, then vanished into Alanna Calvin’s room, though he left the door open. Lance tilted his head, then grinned. Merlin, the most powerful warlock in history, was concerned about Alanna’s reputation…in her _own_ home. Snickering, Lance carted his homework to his room.

* * * * *

Merlin inspected the current runic sequences, nodding his approval. Not bad for a beginner, not bad at all. “How long have you been studying Ancient Runes?”

“Two years,” Alanna replied, looking up from the book he’d thrust at her. “We get to chose electives starting third year; I picked Arithmancy and Ancient Runes.”

“Quite impressive, if a bit of a heavy workload.”

“They’ve actually been pretty fun for me,” Alanna informed the ancient warlock. “Lance opted for Care of Magical Creatures and Arithmancy, specifically the Arithmancy section focusing on spell creation.”

“Spell creation?” Merlin questioned, though he smiled to himself. “What inspired that choice, may I ask?”

Alanna shrugged. “He saw it in the catalog that the school rep showed up with and went for it. _I_ think he would’ve done just fine in regular Arithmancy, but he likes the practical stuff.”

“Many do,” the warlock agreed. “Well, you’ve done a fine job with these runes, but there _are_ a few tricks you haven’t learned yet.” He beckoned the redhead close and gestured to where she’d linked the runes together. “A simple change here will allow us to cut the other linking runes out,” Merlin explained.

“How?”

A deep chuckle. “Why, by using a linking rune that means that we intend to link _multiple_ runic sequences together instead of just one.” The warlock lifted one hand, then stopped. “By chance, do you have another parchment scroll, my dear?”

Alanna retrieved one, then watched in amazement as Merlin magically copied her first sequence to the new scroll, then rapidly sketched in a different linking runic set. Before continuing on, Merlin indicated his addition. “Come on my other side, Alanna, and see if you can read these runes.”

The teenager grabbed a lock of hair as she moved around to read the runes right-side up. Cautiously, she sounded them out. “Link…together…come…what…may?”

Merlin inclined his head. “A bit more poetic than necessary, I admit, but it’s quite efficient. Very neat and clean.” Having said that, Merlin copied in the next runic sequence and included another rune after it. “Now, since we will no longer be using linking sets, we _do_ need a way to separate the various sequences.” He indicated the new rune. “This is the runic equivalent to a period. Do you understand?”

Alanna studied the rune, then retrieved her notebook and carefully copied both the rune period and the linking rune set. “So, you put that in after every sequence, so you don’t get overlap?”

Merlin beamed. “Exactly!” He studied the original parchment roll. “Now, if you could help me by taking this?”

The redhead took the parchment and carefully pulled it so the third sequence was in front of Merlin. Alanna handled the parchment, pulling it out as Merlin copied the sequences to the new roll. When they were done, Alanna rolled up her original plan and moved to Merlin’s side. Merlin sighed to himself as he held up the new runic sequences.

“Of course, my dear,” he murmured. “Seven runic sequences at once is _bound_ to take up plenty of room, regardless of any other tricks.”

Alanna grimaced as she stared at the parchment roll. Though shorter than her original scroll, it was still over a meter long. "Even if we do half on the outer edge and half on the inside…" she whispered.

“Yes, still too long,” Merlin agreed morosely. He sighed heavily. “I believe we will have to shift directions and see if all of your sequences are necessary.”

“In other words,” Alanna observed, somewhat tartly. “Back to the drawing board.”

Amusement flashed on Merlin’s face. “Quite.”


	3. Tengwar or Bust?

Lance made a face as he waded through the books Merlin had lent him. He found another section that specifically talked about the best materials for enchanted objects and quickly scrawled the information down in his notebook. Most of the books had been written during the age of Camelot, so their language was rather old-fashioned and sometimes difficult to read, but at least he was finally making progress.

Sighing, the teenager regarded the notes he’d made thus far. Oh, he was farther than he had been, but even the Old Magic books seemed to be adamant that there was a limit on what magical talismans could do. And a limit on how much magic could be used before the material – whether metal, leather, or wood – overloaded and self-destructed. Merlin’s personal notes in particular described those types of reactions. Apparently, when he’d been crafting the linked amulets, he’d set fire to his own room quite a few times.

With a grimace, Lance dove back into the thick tome, foraging through another three chapters before his tolerance ran out. He set the book down and hunted around for something else to do; as much as he wanted to get this project _done_ , he could only take ‘thees’, ‘thous’, and ‘thys’ for so long.

Idly, he picked up the mithril bracelet on his bedside table, playing with it and thinking as he usually did with the trinket. Naturally, his thoughts turned to his sister’s side of the project. Last he’d heard, Merlin hadn’t been able to justify losing any of the seven runic sequences, particularly in light of the lack of solid information about the _cause_ of Parkinson’s Disease. So ‘Lanna and her mentor had been reduced to hunting for a runic language that would let them write the sequences in a _much_ shorter form.

A day ago, he’d offered up an idea of his own, but it hadn’t been as good an idea as he’d thought.

* * * * *

_Lance leaned on the door jamb, waiting for Alanna and Merlin to finish what they were doing and look up. “Yes?” Merlin queried._

_“I was thinking,” Lance began, “and what if you wrote the sequences in the Old Tongue? That’s a lot shorter than any of the runic languages, isn’t it?”_

_Alanna tilted her head, but she was already frowning, as was Merlin. The warlock sighed. “Truly, I do appreciate your attempt to help, but to write runes in most modern languages is ill-advised, Lance.”_

_“Why?”_

_Merlin considered, then gestured the teenager closer. He wrote out two words in modern English on the parchment in front of him, then turned it. “What do you observe?”_

_Lance studied the words, then his shoulders slumped. “They both have four letters, but they’re still uneven on the page,” he reported. “The letters themselves aren’t regular either. Each is shaped differently from the other.”_

_“Yes,” Merlin agreed, interrupting before Lance could go farther. “For those two reasons and others, most modern languages are not suitable for use in runic magic.” The warlock pulled back. “Still, you may well be on the right track, Lance. If the usual languages fail us, then thinking in terms of what_ could _work might be our only route forward.” With a smile, Merlin added, “If you come up with any other ideas, please, do come and let us know.”_

* * * * *

Lance paused, thinking hard. Although _most_ modern languages that _he_ knew of used virtually the same 26 letter alphabet that English did, there _were_ languages that didn’t. The teenager hopped off his bed and located his laptop, firing it up to do a little hunting online. He headed first to Wikipedia, scrutinizing an article about languages and the different writing styles they used. From the article’s list of languages as well as the linked articles about the respective languages, Lance put together a sample list of representative languages that he could try.

From Wikipedia, the brunet headed for a search engine to look for a simple online translator. Instead of going complex, he was going to test each language with one word: Heal. It didn’t take long to find what he was looking for in Google Translate. Though he doubted it was a perfect translator, right now, he just needed a rough idea. And so, working his way down his list, he typed ‘Heal’ into the input box and translated the word to the other languages.

Greek: Θεραπεύω

Hebrew: לְרַפֵּא

Arabic: شفاء - يشفى

Chinese: 癒合

The teenager copied the results into a document, then looked them over unhappily. While Greek was as complex as any runic language he’d ever seen and looked reasonably mono-spaced, he had a feeling that they’d be running into length problems again in no time. Hebrew, too, looked mono-spaced, but ‘Lanna was likely to kill him over the complexity of Hebrew letters. The Arabic hadn’t copied into the document all that well, so Lance went back to the online translator to study the results. With a sigh, he concluded that it was a bit too complex and irregular to be used. And if Hebrew and Arabic were too complex, the Chinese was _way_ too complex. Forget killing him, ‘Lanna would try to skin him alive.

Busted, Lance decided to shift his focus to searching for languages at random. He clicked on several languages in the translator, studying the results with a skeptical eye. When he tired of that, he backed up to the search engine and started searching languages in general. Lance made a face at the top results, which seemed to be all about the origin of languages. _Fascinating…NOT._

Disgusted, Lance tried a few different search terms, then, purely in impish glee, tried ‘invented languages’. To his surprise, quite a few results popped up. He cruised through a few pages about Klingon as well as a few other pages that discussed creating a new language. Rapidly growing bored again, Lance clicked on a link about the ‘top’ invented languages and started scrolling, only to stop at the second entry. He examined the language, then clicked back to the search engine and started a new search for ‘Quenya’. After a bit of searching, he located a dictionary and started hunting through it. Although he found the word ‘Heal’, other words simply weren’t available in Quenya.

Frustrated, the teenager backed up in his search to examine some of the earlier pages on Quenya. At the top of one page, he spied a small blurb on something called the Tengwar alphabet. Curious, he clicked on the provided link and read through the page. When he spotted a link about _writing_ Tengwar in English, he pounced and started reading, only to wilt about a quarter of the way down the page. It was getting _way_ too technical for him.

In desperation, Lance backtracked to the search engine and did a search on ‘Tengwar’. Five results in, he struck gold: the link was for a Tengwar Transcriber. Triumphantly, he clicked on the link and hastily typed ‘Heal’ into the input box.

The Tengwar transcription popped up immediately, but it looked a bit different from the Tengwar he’d seen on the first site he’d investigated. Curious, Lance opened up the Options and started playing around with them, switching the English to ‘Classical’ and the font to something called ‘Annatar Italic’.

The look of the letters reminded him of something and he pulled back from the laptop to think a moment. His bookshelf provided the answer; his eyes fell on his copies of _The Lord of the Rings_ trilogy. Eagerly, he typed in one of the best known phrases from the books: “One Ring to rule them all, One ring to find them; One ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.”

The Tengwar flowed across the transcriber, both elegant and beautifully simplistic. Lance grinned to himself and typed in the first runic sequence.

* * * * *

In the end, it took another two weeks before the teen was able to show his findings to Merlin and Alanna. Oh, the transcriber worked as well as one could wish, but when he’d copied the first runic sequence into a document, he’d ended up with a line of pure gibberish. Confused, he’d searched for an answer and found it in short order: Tengwar, it seemed, required a special font that wasn’t typically installed on computers.

By the time Lance was able to get Tengwar installed, Merlin had left for the day. The next day, Uncle Greg had cracked the whip over their summer homework, which both teens had let slide in favor of their project. Their uncle hadn’t been impressed with their attempts to skate and he’d literally stood over them as they completed the assignments they’d been neglecting. To top it off, Uncle Greg had demanded to see their progress on a daily basis, which meant spending time on their schoolwork instead of their research project.

By the time Uncle Greg was satisfied they’d learned their lesson, two weeks had slipped by, a fact both teens chafed at. Another two weeks closer to Uncle Wordy leaving the SRU…two weeks _wasted_ on non-essential _homework_ assignments. Regardless, the siblings vowed to never be sidelined by their upset uncle again, which meant they _would_ have to waste more time, but it was better to spend an hour a day on homework, then an entire _week_ on it.

* * * * *

Lance drew in a deep breath and edged into the doorway of Alanna’s room. The two mages within looked up from their work, Merlin’s expression intrigued and Alanna’s annoyed. “Do you have another idea for us, Lance?” Merlin inquired.

“Something like that,” Lance agreed, moving forward to hold out a piece of paper.

Curious, Merlin took the page, studying the seven sentences on it. Then he looked up sharply. “What is this?”

Alanna squirmed off her bed and came over to peek at the paper while her brother smirked a bit and pointed to each sentence as he reeled off the runic sequences they were based on. When he was done, he shifted back on his heels and watched as Merlin examined the page intently. Alanna looked impressed despite herself.

“What language is that?” she questioned.

“English,” Lance replied promptly. “It’s just written with an alphabet called Tengwar.”

“Fascinating,” Merlin remarked, almost to himself. “More curved than most runic languages and yet, simple enough that it shouldn’t cause any undue issues.”

“Will it work?”

The warlock looked up from the paper. Although it had been Alanna who’d asked, the same question was written all over her brother’s face. Merlin glanced down again, hiding a smile at their antics.

Silence draped the room as the youngsters awaited the warlock’s verdict. Merlin scrutinized every bit of the sequences written on the page, his eyes narrow and his mind racing. After some minutes, he looked up again. “I think it might,” was his reply. “Perhaps, young Lancelot, you could explain this unique alphabet further?”

Lance grinned, for once not objecting to the use of his full name. “Sure thing,” he chirped, bouncing on his heels.

* * * * *

Merlin waited until he was home before giving voice to a full-throated roar of laughter. Weeks of tedious research and effort to find a way to use the traditional runic languages for the healing bracelet and a young amateur blew it all away with one _day_ of poking around on that newfangled internet thing.

He _never_ would have imagined that a _fictional_ language could work as a runic language. Never would have thought to hunt through modern languages for a workable runic language in the first place. After centuries of life and learning about magic, the warlock _did_ consider himself an authority on many magical subjects and at times he did wonder if he’d learned all there was to know about magic.

Now, he had an answer for all those future times: No, he certainly did _not_ know everything about magic, because magic, like life, changed constantly. It moved forward, altering to fit new circumstances and discoveries, and it could even adapt to unique, never before thought of avenues. No one, Merlin mused, save the Lion Himself, was capable of knowing all there was to know about magic. Not even him.

Laughter died away into chuckles as Merlin found a fresh sheet of parchment and made a note to purchase _The Lord of the Rings_ trilogy, as well as any other works by J.R.R. Tolkien. A man impressive enough to invent so creative a language was well worth investigating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a lot of research before I wrote word one of this story. In fact, I've spent countless hours working out the exact mechanics of what the kids and Merlin are creating. I can confidently say that, to the best of my knowledge, everything I've written about Quenya and Tengwar is true.
> 
> And, exactly like Lance, I checked out how to write in Tengwar and ended up finding a different solution because the exact mechanics are very technical and rather tedious. I simply don't have time in my life for everything, so the transcriber worked _wonders_ for getting what I wanted done.


	4. Mithril and Magic

Once again, Lance was morosely regarding his notebook and the notes he’d managed to collect on the subject of suitable enchantment materials. In the two months since the Tengwar discovery, he’d come close to permanently losing his laptop to his own sister before he’d slowed her enthusiasm down enough to install Tengwar on _her_ laptop.

Homework was even more of a problem than it had been the day of the breakthrough, since he and Alanna had started the school year at their new techie school. Despite the summer school, they were both still behind and struggling to catch up. And, naturally, Uncle Greg had finally made an executive decision and reenrolled them at Shiloh so they could ‘keep up with their magical subjects’. Effectively, they’d been reduced to weekends and the odd night when they had a bit less schoolwork to do.

Even with the limitations, Lance had managed to wade through most of the books Merlin had lent him about the ins and outs of enchantment. He’d compiled a list of the most effective metals used for enchantment and sent Mindy out to purchase enough raw material for several tries. On the plus side, having materials meant they could actually start experimenting with prototypes. Unfortunately, the prototypes weren’t going well at all.

Tin and copper hadn’t been able to store enough magic to power all the runes, fizzling out before even half of them were powered up. Bronze, a mix of the two, had lasted long enough for three quarters of the runes, then simply refused to accept any more magic. Additionally, the magical power in the powered runes had run out in less than ten minutes, even though no one was wearing the rough bracelet. Merlin in particular had been perplexed by the rapid power loss; his linked amulets had all been made of bronze and none of them had run out of power like the bracelet had.

Determined to solve the problem, Merlin had taken it upon himself to purchase another few batches of bronze and he’d worked on them in his home, using various herbs and oils in an effort to cement the magical healing. After all, three quarters working was better than nothing. The results of his experiments had been disappointing: the bracelet had held the power longer, but had only lasted a day before the runes were dark again.

From there, the group moved onto silver and finally found a material that would hold enough magic to charge all the runes. Even better, the silver’s makeup meant that, unlike the bronze, it did _not_ use the stored magic unless the bracelet was worn. Merlin, eager to test their creation and aware that the kids could hardly walk around with a silver bracelet on, had taken the prototype home with the promise to wear it until it ran out of power.

The raw silver bracelet lasted all of ten minutes. Undeterred, Merlin put the bracelet through the same herbs and oils he’d used on the bronze prototype. Once subjected to the treatment, the silver held its power for a day, much as the bronze had, but subsequent recharges immediately reverted to the ten minutes the bracelet had initially displayed. Reluctantly, Merlin concluded that such was likely to be the case, regardless of what changes he made to his herb and oil treatments, and reported the disappointment to his colleagues a week later.

Up until Merlin’s report, Lance had been resisting purchasing pure gold, but bowed to the necessity and sent Mindy out for a batch. Mindy returned with the gold already fashioned into a bracelet and Lance turned the latest prototype over to Merlin and Alanna before retreating to his room to stew since he had nothing more to contribute.

The gold took a magical charge beautifully, lighting up all the runes almost as soon as magic was applied. Like the silver, it did not use the stored magic unless the bracelet was worn. Recalling the ten minutes of power with the silver prototype, Merlin slipped the golden bracelet on as Alanna started a timer.

As they waited, Merlin summoned Lance and began quizzing the pair on the latest Old Magic they’d learned at Shiloh. As first ten, then fifteen minutes ticked by, the warlock focused on the latest spell they were working on, describing a few times he’d used the same type of spell himself. At the thirty minute mark, just as the warlock was about to leave, the golden bracelet ran out of power.

Alanna stared at the bracelet, her lip quivering.

“Sis?”

Without answering, Alanna held up the stopwatch, which stood silently at thirty-one minutes. Lance stared at the time, then groaned and dropped his head into his hands. Merlin plucked the stopwatch away to check the results for himself, his expression just as disappointed as the teens.

Before he left, he observed sadly, “We may have to look at splitting the load between two bracelets after all. Or more.”

Alanna sniffled and Lance rested a hand on her shoulder. “That cuts the healing power in half, _if_ two bracelets work,” she whispered. “I don’t know, _maybe_ that could still work, but…”

“You don’t think so,” Lance finished sadly.

The redhead shook her head and looked up, tears in her eyes. “We’re gonna lose him,” she cried, burying her head in Lance’s chest. “We tried and tried, but we’re gonna lose him anyway.”

Lance let Alanna cry. At first he tried to think of a solution, but after a minute or two, he let his own tears out. They’d tried everything they could, but some things…just didn’t _have_ an answer.

* * * * *

Uncle Greg had been rather alarmed to come home and find his _nipotes_ in emotional agony. How Lance managed to keep the truth from his uncle, he didn’t know, but Uncle Greg had kept a far closer eye on their ‘project’ after that. It might have been a problem, except they were totally and completely stalled.

In frustration, Lance slammed his notebook closed and shoved it off of his bed violently. He restrained a furious scream, but did spin around and punch his pillow. Rather than calming him down, the pillow’s limp acceptance of his assault provoked him and the brunet stepped up his attack, pummeling the defenseless pillow before sending it after his notebook.

As it tumbled off the bed, one corner hit a square box on Lance’s bedside table and sent it flying as well. Lance hissed at the pillow, then pushed himself off his bed and went to retrieve the box. He snatched it up, yanking off the top to pull the bracelet within out. Anger pulsed and the Wild Mage grabbed his wand out of its holster, accidentally slashing its tip past the bracelet.

The material scored beneath the wand tip and Lance froze, caught between his rage and fresh horror that he’d damaged the priceless gift. Gingerly, he prodded at the slash mark, frowning in confusion. Mithril was stronger than that…and he hadn’t even _touched_ it with his wand. He brought the wand back across, the tip mostly following the same route as it had the first time. Lance’s jaw dropped as the slash vanished, as if it had never been there!

Curiosity surged and Lance tossed the box onto his bed, adjusting his grip on the bracelet to hold it with his left hand. He looked between the bracelet and his wand before moving his wand back to the bracelet and pushing just enough magic through it to make the tip light up. Carefully, he traced the letters of his name, stopping the magical flow at the breaks between letters.

The result was a sloppy, but clear rendition of his name, ‘written’ into the mithril. He sent magic through the wand again and retraced the letters, watching as they vanished once again. The teenager played with the bracelet for over an hour, gaining more control over his wand the longer he practiced. The mithril never hesitated, never got ‘stuck’, and never lost its shine, no matter how many times Lance inscribed various words on its surface.

The play only stopped when the teen’s uncle knocked on the bedroom door and poked his head in to announce dinner. Lance put the bracelet back on his bedside table and trailed after his uncle, a new concept working its way through his head.

* * * * *

On the next project day, Lance didn’t even wait to be acknowledged by Merlin or Alanna before he laid the mithril bracelet on the small table Alanna had taken to keeping in her room. Merlin peered at the bracelet, perplexed. “We already tried silver,” he reminded the teenager.

Lance grinned. “This isn’t silver,” he countered. Alanna gasped as he added, “It’s mithril.”

The warlock picked up the bracelet, turning it over in his hands. “Forgive my ignorance, but what, pray tell, is _mithril_? I’ve heard of it before and even used it on your wands, but I’ve never understood what makes it so valuable and sought after.”

It was Alanna who explained, though she opted to read from her copy of _The Fellowship of the Ring_ instead of summarizing. “ _‘_ Mithril! _All folk desired it. It could be beaten like copper, and polished like glass; and the Dwarves could make of it a metal, light and yet harder than tempered steel. Its beauty was like to that of common silver, but the beauty of Mithril did not tarnish or grow dim.’_ ”

Merlin listened to the account, examining the metal beneath his fingers. When Alanna was done reading, he looked up at Lance, his expression thoughtful. “You think this metal might hold a significant amount of magic?”

“I think it’s worth a shot and we don’t have much to lose at this point,” Lance replied bluntly. He pointed to the bracelet. “When you gave me that, you said the dwarves told you it was _meant_ for something. I’ve never been able to figure it out, but maybe, just _maybe_ , _this_ is what it’s meant for.”

“What do you mean, brother mine?” Alanna questioned curiously.

The brunet picked up the bracelet and turned it deftly. In one move, he drew his wand and traced a Tengwar letter on it. The other mages stared as the letter was ‘written’ into the metal. Lance offered the bracelet back to Merlin, who prodded at the writing and even tried a spell or two to make it vanish. It didn’t vanish until Lance specifically ‘erased’ the letter.

“We’d need to find a way to make sure no one can do that once it’s done, but I think we can figure it out,” Lance remarked quietly.

“A far preferable problem to the one we have now,” Merlin agreed, his eyes sharpening. “I think you are correct, Lance. This bracelet seems to have been crafted with all the qualities we need for this project. Ease of use, after a fashion, light and strong. Yes, I think it well worth the effort to inscribe the runes.”

In the end, both teens had to inscribe the runes, trading places as they grew tired, and they needed constant help from Merlin. The warlock vowed to find a much easier, more efficient method as soon as possible. Wands, while good for many things, had never been intended as writing implements. Already, the warlock had several ideas, but now that the runes had been inscribed, it was time to test the mithril bracelet.

The bracelet lit up as soon as magic was applied, the runes glowing with a steady white light as magic was added. When the mithril would accept no more magic, Merlin held the connection until Alanna started her stopwatch. As an initial test, none of them wore the bracelet, to see if the metal could hold the charge and detect that no one was wearing it.

Unfortunately, the stopwatch had just ticked over the hour mark when the runes lost their glow altogether. Merlin prodded the bracelet, sighing in disappointment when it became clear the magic had completely run out.

“One step forward, two steps back,” Lance observed, slumping down in his seat on Alanna’s bedspread.

“I think we’re on the right track, though,” Alanna argued. “If brother mine is right about the mithril bracelet, then we _can_ succeed. We just don’t have all the pieces yet.”

“Agreed,” Merlin announced crisply. “If you will permit me to take the bracelet home with me, I will see if I can find a more expedient method of applying and removing the runes.”

“No problem here,” Lance replied, earning a nod from his sister. “That was more of a pain than I thought.”

“No kidding,” Alanna grumbled, casting the mithril a glare.

Lance studied the bracelet thoughtfully as Merlin picked it up. “Hey, is there a way to keep the runes from glowing?”

“There is,” Merlin acknowledged, “But we aren’t that far yet and the glow uses a minimal amount of magic.” He let that hang, then turned towards Alanna. “I believe we must focus our efforts on making the runes more efficient. Clearly, the concept works, but now we need to reduce the active magical use. The runes are, to borrow a techie turn of phrase, running down the battery.”

Alanna nodded, but indicated the clock. “You’d better go before Uncle Greg catches us and figures out our ‘project’ is a lot bigger than he thinks.”

“You _will_ have to tell him eventually,” Merlin pointed out.

“When it works,” Lance replied firmly.


	5. Programmed Magic

_‘When it works,’_ Lance thought rather unhappily as Spike and Lou teamed up to clear out a spare bedroom in the Scarlatti household. Alanna was in the middle of explaining magic to the two elder Scarlattis – _Thank you_ so _much, Auror Bruck,_ Lance thought sarcastically – and Lance was hunting for a place to set his and ‘Lanna’s sleeping bags down so he could help with the setup.

Firmly, the teenager pushed away thoughts of the still not complete project and dropped the sleeping bags in Spike’s room before heading to the spare room and hefting up a box. He grunted at the unexpected weight, but didn’t drop the box. “Where does this go?”

Spike peered at it and lifted the lid to look inside. “Oh, my old programming stuff.” The bomb tech glanced around, then sighed. “I think it has to stay in here, but you can probably shove it in the closet.”

“Copy,” Lance agreed, heading for the closet and letting the box down on a stack of other boxes. “Is this a storage room or something?”

“Well, Mamá is a bit of packrat when it comes to my stuff,” Spike admitted. “I just haven’t gotten around to looking through all this and seeing what I want to keep.”

The three worked quietly for the next hour, only speaking when either Lance or Lou needed to know where a box went. Spike focused on sorting through as many different boxes as possible, doing his best to weed what he wanted to keep out from the rest of what Lance privately labeled ‘junk’. In the end, a stack of cardboard boxes went to the room that Mrs. Scarlatti used for what she intended to donate or give away. Another, smaller, stack went out to the garbage. Spike cast that stack a slightly morose look, then determinedly turned his back on it.

Instead of heading straight back to the spare room, the three were sidetracked into the kitchen area where Mrs. Scarlatti latched onto Spike, babbling in Italian. Lance traded an uncomfortable look with his sister as the matron wailed about her son risking his life for ungrateful magical wretches. Despite their uncle’s best efforts, neither teen could speak Italian. But they _could_ understand it perfectly, thanks to their Wild Magic.

Lou couldn’t understand Italian at all, but that didn’t stop him from reading the uncomfortable expressions on the faces of Spike and the teenagers. He waited for the flow of words to slow, then cleared his throat. “Spike? Anything else I can do to help set up the spare room?”

Spike detached his mother gently. “I think we’re good, Lou,” he replied. “Should be cleared out enough for a couple nights. You heading out?”

“Unless you need me to stick around, probably.”

“No.” All heads turned towards Mrs. Scarlatti. “You will stay for dinner and tell us how you survived that awful device.”

Lou blinked in confusion, then caught Spike’s exaggerated wince and grimace. Oh. The land mine.

* * * * *

Lance opened up the box of programming books, poking at them curiously. “You interested?” Spike asked, drawing the teen’s attention.

“What’s it for?”

The bomb tech grinned. “Programming is how you tell a computer what you want it to do and how.”

“Huh?”

Spike nearly laughed, but instead replied, “Bring one of the books over.”

Lance yanked the top book out, noticing that it was for something called C++. He toted it over to Spike and passed the book over.

“Yeah, this is a good one,” Spike mused. “Good language to learn programming with.” He held the book up. “See, computers are actually really dumb. They only understand two numbers. One and zero.”

“Why only two?” Alanna asked.

Spike waved the question away. “Too complicated for an intro.” The teens nodded, accepting that. “Anyway, we _humans_ don’t think like that, so the first programming languages were hard to learn, hard to get right. We had to talk like a computer, not a human.” He grinned at the disgusted faces. “Long story short, eventually languages that were more human-friendly were developed and _this_ ,” he flipped the book in the air, “is one of ‘em.” Spike passed the book back to Lance. “Every electronic device ever made has _some_ kind of programming in it. It could be hardwired in or it could be software, could even be a mix of the two.”

Lance stared at the book for several long moments, then looked up. “Is programming why some devices last longer than others?”

“Last longer?”

The teen fumbled, then ducked his head. “Yeah, like how our flip phones last longer than your phones do.”

Comprehension dawned and Spike grinned. “You mean battery life!” He considered the question for a minute. “Some of that is part of how an electronic is built,” he began. “Also how the battery is built.”

Nods from his listeners and Alanna offered, “So, the flip phones are simpler and they last longer?”

“Exactly!” Spike beamed, then he winked. “But if I need my smartphone to last longer, I have the option to turn off features I don’t need. That keeps power from being used, so the phone lasts longer.”

“And you use programming for that?” Lance questioned.

Spike chuckled, pulling out his phone. “Well, the phone sure does, but all I have to do is tap a button or control. It’s already been programmed in by someone else, so I don’t have to do anything more than use the phone.”

Alanna lost interest after that as the two _boys_ talked technology and programming long into the night. She moved onto the books she’d brought along, pointedly ignoring the two. Naturally, that meant she missed the devious glint in her brother’s eyes as Spike talked him through programming basics.

* * * * *

Lance groaned and thumped his head on his keyboard. Making a program was _hard_ , particularly since he was trying to craft a program that used _magic_. Magic didn’t need all the stupid little variables that a techie computer needed. He paused, thinking that over. Except…right now, the mithril bracelet just fired all the runes regardless of what was needed. So…maybe he _did_ need the variables, but that didn’t mean they had to be strings or integers or what not.

The teenager focused on his sample program again, debating. Then he nodded to himself. For _now_ , he _had_ to use the C++ variables; it was the only way to test the program without messing around with the mithril bracelet. Once it was built, he’d have to figure out what to cut out for the bracelet, but he wouldn’t be stuck staring at a half built program anymore.

* * * * *

In the end, the sample program didn’t work, mostly because Lance ended up creating a number of infinite loops in areas where the finished program would get its information from magic or the bracelet’s ‘control buttons’. And the end result was probably sloppy and lousy and amateurish, but it was worth a shot, even if he couldn’t figure out how to make the test program work right.

He sent a letter to Merlin, asking the warlock to come a bit earlier than usual and fed a line to his uncle about wanting help from Merlin on an Old Magic spell that wasn’t working right. Though he felt a bit guilty for lying, he didn’t regret it; if the bracelet finally worked, he’d come clean about _everything_.

* * * * *

Merlin frowned thoughtfully as Lance spread two white pages out on the table in front of him. The family grimoire was also present, but the warlock suspected the grimoire was more of a cover than anything else, a convenient excuse for Sergeant Parker’s benefit. “What have you come up with?” Merlin asked quietly.

A shrug. “Could be nothing more than a shot in the dark,” Lance admitted. “Or whistling into the wind, but after Team One came back from McKean, ‘Lanna and I spent that first night at Uncle Spike’s house.”

“Go on.”

“Well, basically, Uncle Spike introduced me to something called computer programming and, um, I was wondering if we could use it for our project.”

Merlin’s eyes sharpened and he inspected the pages more closely before shaking his head. “Explain this to me. It looks like English, but it’s clearly not.”

Lance snickered, then carefully explained his program to the ancient warlock, as well as how he was hoping to use three little silver discs on the mithril bracelet to control the finished product. Merlin listened attentively, scratching a note or two on a third sheet of paper as the young man talked.

When the flow of words stopped, Merlin inclined his head. “Yes, that may well be something to try, but would it not be to our advantage to add something that permits more efficient testing? For instance, a method to keep the bracelet on its ‘high’ setting, so that we can test the power usage?”

Lance frowned, nibbling his lip. “You mean, force it to stay on a setting instead of adjusting automatically?”

“Yes, as well as a way to turn that off again,” Merlin agreed.

The brunet pulled his program over, studying the lines on it with a gimlet eye. Then he nodded. “I think I can do that.”

* * * * *

Alanna did the transcribing honors, though she was puzzled that Merlin wanted the results printed out. The warlock hummed to himself as he consulted with Lance on _precisely_ how the resulting program should be arranged, then used his magic to copy the Tengwar transcription onto a thin, almost transparent parchment roll. At Merlin’s direction, Alanna held the mithril bracelet steady while Merlin wrapped the parchment around the metal. The warlock adjusted the position, then his eyes flashed gold and the lettering moved until all of the letters were positioned above solid metal.

Merlin laid a finger on one of the discs that adorned the outside of the bracelet and whispered, “ _Inaegenstrengthi_ **(1)**.” Moving his finger to the next one, he murmured, “ _Medeme_ **(2).”** The last disc received the word, “ _Níed_ **(3).”**

The three metal circles flashed, then went dark again. Merlin smiled and his eyes blazed gold again; the warlock ran his hand over the parchment, turning the bracelet as his magic worked. When he was done, he pulled the parchment away to reveal a perfect impression of the Tengwar runes.

“Can you show me how?” Alanna asked.

Merlin’s smile grew larger. “Of course,” he agreed.

Lance stayed out of the way as Alanna and Merlin reapplied the healing runes to the inside of the bracelet. When the application was done, Alanna inspected the results, noticing that the three metal circles had acquired colors: green, blue, and black. “How do we keep the runes from disappearing if someone swipes at it with their wand?”

“Ah, that was quite vexing, but I eventually found the answer,” Merlin chuckled. He held out his hand, lighting up the entire bracelet with his magic. “ _Unwáclic_ **(4).”** The bracelet glowed a steady gold for a few seconds, then returned to its usual silvery hue. “Now, try to remove our work, young Alanna,” Merlin ordered.

Alanna bit her lip, but drew her wand. Delight shone as nothing she did changed the runes on the bracelet. “What if we need to change it?”

Merlin nodded approval. “If that comes about, we will use the spell ‘ _Edhwierft_ **(5)’,”** he explained. “I have already tested that, but there is no need to destroy our careful work at this stage of things.”

Lance cleared his throat. “Um, I think we’ll need Wild Magic to charge it now. It’s, um, a limitation of the program I wrote. I was banking on our magic being smarter than a computer is.”

Merlin chuckled at that. “Fair enough,” he agreed. “Far more important to have a working end product, yes?”

Alanna did the honors, but as soon as she pulled her magic back, the runes flashed, then seemed to vanish. “Huh?”

“Emergency mode is black,” Lance explained. “I didn’t program in anything about a rune color if someone’s not wearing the bracelet, so I bet that’s your magic, Sis.” He picked up the bracelet, frowning thoughtfully. “Let’s leave it off for an hour,” he suggested. “I’d almost rather leave it for a night or two, see how well it holds a magic charge, but…”

“Yes,” Merlin confirmed quietly. “Getting this working is more important than a few minor details. But an hour will not hurt.”

* * * * *

To the delight of all three, the bracelet held steady, refusing to accept more of Alanna’s magic even a full hour after it had been initially charged. Lance slid the bracelet on, fastening the clasp. Immediately, the runes turned green, but they shifted to blue almost at once. With his other hand, Lance tapped the green circle and a yellow light outlined it. The runes shifted back to green, but swapped green for blue as Lance tapped the green circle again. Satisfied the override was working, Lance pressed the green circle, lighting it up once more.

“Okay, ‘Lanna, charge it to full and I’ll grab the timer.”

“Why have it at the highest level?” Alanna questioned.

“ ‘Cause we already _know_ what the highest level does,” Lance countered. “We’ll need to work out the other levels, but I want to see if the programming has reduced how long high runs.”

“Okay,” Alanna agreed, seeing her brother’s point.

Merlin watched as the two worked with their creation, smiling fondly. He was even prouder when the bracelet almost matched its prior performance, clocking in at fifty-six minutes instead of a touch over an hour. Lance reluctantly removed the bracelet, recharging it to full in less than five minutes. Then he regarded the bracelet unhappily.

Alanna spoke first. “If I understand how your programming works, then for both normal and emergency modes, they check to see how the user is doing before activating the runic sequences.”

“Yeah, and the bracelet is meant to constantly update,” Lance confirmed. “But, well, I’m not sure how to _test_ how long the bracelet can last if there’s no change in the user status.”

“I will handle that part,” Merlin replied. “I have done a bit of research myself on the topic and I believe I can effectively ‘fake’ the disease sufficiently enough to test your device.” At the surprised looks he got, the warlock bobbed his head, a gleam of mischief in his eyes. “Once you described your program to me, young Lance, I realized the issue and spent some time thinking over possible solutions. It will not be perfect, but it _will_ give us an idea.”

“Thank you,” Lance said quietly, but intensely, bowing formally to the warlock. “For _everything_.”

Merlin shook his head. “No, Lance, you and your sister are the ones who came up with many of the ideas that moved us forward. Of course I helped, but,” he gestured to the bracelet, “this is _your_ project more than mine. I approve, thoroughly, of your efforts to help your friend.”

“It’s not exactly a cure,” Alanna pointed out.

“No,” Merlin agreed. “But, perhaps, it is enough.” A faint smile appeared. “Once this is tested and working, we can begin improving it.” An anticipatory gleam lit Merlin’s blue eyes. “That will be quite a challenge, but well worth it.” Merlin took the mithril bracelet from Lance. “I will be in touch with the results,” he promised. “Shall it be the normal mode?”

Lance nodded. “Once the runes shift to blue, I’d hit the override for normal mode. That way, the emergency power can’t kick on near the end of the test.”

“Of course,” Merlin acknowledged. With one final salute to the pair, he departed.

[1] Old English for ‘great strength power’

[2] Old English for ‘average’

[3] Old English for ‘great need’

[4] Old English for ‘steadfast strong noble splendid’

[5] Old English for ‘going back to a former state of things’


	6. Epilogue

Merlin smiled as he returned the device. “Close to seven days, take an hour or two,” he reported. “Once it ran out of power, as an experiment, I applied my own magic and engaged the high power mode.”

“And?” Alanna questioned.

“My magic was sufficient to power it for fifty-six minutes, just as yours does. However, I would venture to guess that Wild Magic is more suitable for the moment.”

“More flexible?” Lance guessed.

The warlock inclined his head. “The two of you still have much to learn. The bracelet is even more impressive for that fact, but your magic compensates for the flaws in your creation better than my own magic does.” Merlin paused, then continued, “I shall continue my research to see what improvements I can make to the runic sequences, but I know nothing of the programming you used for the controls.”

“That one’s on me,” Lance agreed at once. “We, uh, probably have to focus more on schoolwork, but I’ll work on it when I have a chance.”

“Of course,” Merlin acknowledged.

With a deep breath, Lance set a pouch of coins on the table and nudged it towards Merlin. He kept his focus on Merlin, not even looking at the payment. Merlin glanced sidelong at the pouch, then bowed slightly and picked it up without a word. “It has been a delight to work with the two of you,” the warlock murmured. “I trust you will contact me if you find another such project?”

“Count on it.”

* * * * *

Greg Parker regarded his constable’s transfer request, holding back a sigh. If only Eddie had kept his nose to himself instead of going through Wordy’s locker, then maybe he could have talked Wordy into staying longer. But frankly, he doubted it; Wordy wasn’t going to get better, not without a cure…which didn’t even exist yet. Already, Greg had noticed that the medication wasn’t working _quite_ as well as it had in the beginning, but he hadn’t planned on saying anything about it.

The Sergeant reluctantly hauled himself out of his car and headed up to his apartment. Once inside, he closed the door behind him and called, “I’m home!”

No response.

Parker straightened up, summoning his enhanced senses without a qualm. He could hear sound from the kitchen area and a muffled giggle that _had_ to be Alanna. Warily, Greg headed for the kitchen, determined to find out what was going on. As he reached the doorway, he saw a flash of red and brown duck out of sight. He glanced up, searching for a bucket or equally amusing prank, but there was no trap that _he_ could see.

Greg stepped into the kitchen, freezing as soon as he crossed the threshold, searching for the trap experience told him would be present, but there was nothing. Frowning, he stepped farther into the kitchen and began to examine his surroundings. His kids were still staying out of sight and nothing appeared to be out of place on the counters or shelves. Eyeing the cabinets, Greg checked them one-by-one, but there was no practical joke waiting for him and his sixth sense wasn’t spiking at all.

Perplexed, the Sergeant shifted back on his heels. “Okay, what’s going on here?” he demanded, well aware his _nipotes_ could hear him.

There was a whisper of wind around him and Greg snapped around to face the table. At first, the table looked as it always did, but then he spied a silver bracelet sitting innocently on the surface. In two quick strides, Greg reached the table and picked the bracelet up, examining it closely. There were grooves under his fingers, as though the bracelet had letters engraved on it, silver on silver. It was rather plain, save for three colored circles close to one hinge.

“All right, what’s this?” Greg inquired, prodding at the bracelet curiously. “Is it for me?”

“Nope.”

Greg arched an eyebrow at his nephew and held the mystery bracelet out. “Then who’s it for?”

“Uncle Wordy,” Alanna replied, sliding into the kitchen to bracket Greg’s other side.

Parker stiffened and both teens caught it. “He’s hasn’t left yet, has he?” Lance demanded, alarm shining in his eyes.

“Almost,” Greg admitted. “He put in his transfer papers today.”

“Did you sign them?” Alanna sounded half-crushed.

About to reply, Greg looked between the two of them. “Why?” He dragged the word out, making it clear he expected an answer before he answered Alanna.

“Because,” Lance whispered, pointing to the bracelet in Greg’s grasp, “We think that will make him better.”

His jaw dropped and Greg stared down at the simple metal circle in his hands, glittering in the kitchen lights. “ _This_ thing?”

“ ‘Lanna, it looks better if you do it.”

Alanna nodded and reached out to touch the bracelet. The Sergeant’s eyes widened in shock as violet magic lit up flowing, curving writing on both the outside and inside of the bracelet. The enchanted object seemed to hum as Alanna held the connection.

“You made, what, a _healing_ bracelet? For Parkinson’s Disease?”

Twin nods.

“Out of a _silver_ bracelet?”

Lance ducked his head. “Mithril, actually.”

Greg nearly dropped the bracelet. “Lance, this is…this is your _birthday_ present, isn’t it?”

There was not a shred of hesitation in Lance’s expression. “The dwarves made sure I knew it was _meant_ for something, Uncle Greg. And this is it.” He pointed to the bracelet. “This wouldn’t be possible if it wasn’t mithril.”

“Please?” Alanna pleaded, “Can we try? Tell him ‘no’ for a day or two and then we can give him the bracelet and see if it works?”

_See if it works?_ Greg regarded the object. “When did you finish this?”

They glanced at each other, then chorused, “Today.”

For the second time, Greg’s jaw went slack. _Today. The_ very _last day…_ After a moment, Greg was forced to hold back a burst of hysterical laughter. “Yes, _mia nipote_ , we can try. I can’t promise anything after that, though.”

“One chance is all we want,” Lance murmured, staring at the bracelet.

“One chance is all we _need_ , big brother mine,” Alanna corrected, her expression stubborn.

As the violet glow faded away and the runes on the bracelet vanished again, Greg considered his strategy and decided on a simple, straightforward one. One last meeting, with one last chance. One thing was for sure though…his kids were far more crafty and cunning than he’d given them credit for. Which reminded him…

“So, did you two get your homework for today done?”

_~ Fin_


End file.
